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| Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say Ay; And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false. | |
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| Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,— | |
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| O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. | |
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| What than shall I swear by? | |
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